


What Are Legend...

by HermitLibrary_Archivist



Category: Blake's 7
Genre: Gen, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-26
Updated: 2008-05-26
Packaged: 2018-04-22 13:52:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4837658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HermitLibrary_Archivist/pseuds/HermitLibrary_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>by Linda Terrell</p><p>The crew encounter magical beasts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Are Legend...

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Judith and Aralias, the archivists: This story was originally archived at [Hermit.org Blake's 7 Library](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Hermit_Library), which was closed due to maintenance costs and lack of time. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2015. We posted announcements about the move and emailed authors as we imported, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Hermit.org Blake's 7 Library collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hermitlibrary/profile). 
> 
> This work has been backdated to 26th of May 2008, which is the last date the Hermit.org archive was updated, not the date this fic was written. In some cases, fics can be dated more precisely by searching for the zine they were originally published in on [Fanlore](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Main_Page).
> 
> Previously Published in Chronicles #27/28; Something...Unfriendly #1; Perihelion #2

"They are come again!" She Searches The Clouds called on the run. "The Two Footed Walkers are come. I told you they would return," she finished as she slid to a halt before Dark Of The Moon. Her gold eyes flashed, matching the lining of her nostrils as they flared to fill her lungs.

 

"You have seen them then, Searcher?" Dark Of The Moon asked calmly. Although agitated by her news, it would not do for him to show it. He scanned the skies idly with sweeps of his great, satin head. There were new scents there this day.

"I have felt them. I feel them even as we speak. Do not tease me now when you know how it is I foretell."

He touched her nose gently, wafting his soft breath over her. "What, then, do you feel?"

"One much like us." She stamped a tiny foot and dared Dark Of The Moon to doubt She who was Guardian. She who searched the clouds and gave warning. She who had kept them safely hidden for over two thousand years. She who was bonded to Dark Of The Moon.

To doubt her instincts was to doubt their existence. And to doubt that was to perish.

His reply was to swivel an inquisitive ear and rustle his feathers. "Like us?" he mused, but mildly. His wisdom, which was even older than two thousand years, told him to wait and listen to her for she knew things before they were.

"One like you, a Leader. One like myself, a Searcher. One who is an Innocent but very devious. One who is Lost. One who speaks the Wisdom of the Oracles. One who is Alone. One who Guides." Her eyes rolled as she sought the right words to describe her feelings.

Dark Of The Moon sighed and shifted his weight. He was uncomfortable when forced to stand still for any length of time. His wing itched. "That is several Ones. Which One is The One?"

"It is all the same One. Although more than one, they who come are One." Her tail flicked for emphasis. "Bound to The One."

'How lovely you are, Searcher. Like the clouds. But your eyes are worried.' "And how many are this One?"

"Seven. But two of them serve the Five."

"Enough of this feeling," he snorted. "We will go to see far ourselves."

Leaping into the air above her, he spread his great wings and hung there briefly. Wheeling, he bugled and flew away.

She followed his path on the ground for a time, speeding across it with tiny thunder. Scattering a herd of white deer, she vanished into a sunbeam, golden prints in the grass the only clue to her passing.

***

Avon was dozing on the Flight Couch.

Avon never dozed. Avon rarely slept and when he did, he certainly didn't do it in front of anyone. Sleeping was vulnerability, loss of control. Avon simply would never let anyone see him that way.

Blake could doze anywhere, anytime. Often taking catnaps on the couch, or even on his feet.

Vila, of course, never dozed. Vila slept.

Cally meditated.

Jenna went on until someone dumped her into her cabin.

But Avon never dozed on the Flight Deck.

Blake's almost frantic search for Star One left no room for luxuries like R&R. They were all in even worse shape than before they had gone to Horizon.

And Avon was dozing on the Flight Couch, next to Blake, who was reading and who had shifted his weight so that Avon was leaning against him.

Ever since the revelations about Anna Grant, Avon's relationship with Blake had changed subtly. It was hard to pin-point just how. They still sniped at each other and Avon as often lost. It was as if there was a new awareness between them, that had started at Exbar.

Gradually, Blake became aware of the silence that enveloped the Flight Deck. Looking up, he saw Vila seated across from him, staring with a quizzical expression. Cally stood behind Vila, arms folded, face blank in thought. Above them, Jenna surveyed the lot.

The overall impression Blake got then was one of wary amusement. He tilted his head, returning the various gazes and yawned, running a hand through his untamed hair. His movements caused Avon to stir but he did not awaken.

"If ever there was proof that we need R&R," Vila said, "that's definitely it. Avon doesn't just fall asleep. Not on the Flight Deck. Not in front of everyone. And not practically in your arms."

"Any ideas?" Blake asked blandly, looking up to Jenna with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips and the crinkles around his eyes.

Her usually haughty features softened at Blake's smile. "Possibly. Zen has located a likely planet not on the usual routes or even listed."

Vila stretched and yawned then too. "Wanna tell him why? Why it isn't listed. Why I don't particularly want to go there?"

They all exchanged anxious looks, then Cally spoke. "It is on the edge of the Outer Darkness, Blake."

As expected, Blake's face darkened considerably.

"But it is a beautiful, earth-type planet," Cally rushed to fill him in. "Sapphire blue, like earth, with earth-type vegetation. It is really quite pastoral."

"And uninhabited?"

"Yes." They all answered.

"And despite its rather precarious location, you are willing to try to visit it? Except Vila," he tossed a small exasperated glare at the thief, tempering it with a tiny knowing nod.

Avon stirred awake and Blake tensed, waiting for the technician to sit up abruptly and set off his verbal land mines.

Instead, Avon pushed himself upright with noticeable reluctance and blinked to focus on Blake, a slightly sleep-stupid smile on his race. Yawning luxuriously, he rested back against the couch, propping his head with his hand and stared at Blake who was only inches away from his face.

They simply looked at each other for long seconds.

"Wakey, wakey, Avon," Blake teased. "Or shall I carry you down?"

"I really wouldn't suggest you try it," Avon purred in a sleep-husky voice, his eyes fighting to remain open, "But if I'm this tired, how are the rest of you faring? If there's a quiet planet nearby, by all means, let us go there. I'd like very much to get off this ship for a time and get away from all of you."

"Thank you, Avon," Blake said brusquely. "We so very much enjoy your sparkling company, too."

"I've hurt your feelings," Avon stated flatly.

Blake fought off an urge to shake Avon until he rattled. "Yes, you've hurt my feelings. Again." Blake rose suddenly and Avon almost fell forward onto the couch. He hadn't yet realized he was still leaning against Blake.

"On second thought," Avon murmured, fitting his length to the couch, "you all go down and go feral and I'll stay up here and keep shop."

Jenna started to say something heated then thought of something better. "Of course, Avon. But you won't mind terribly if we bring Orac with us to work the teleport so we won't have to wake you up?" She smiled her imitation of Blake's most diabolical and "innocent" smile.

"Well now, isn't that why the bracelets are also comm-links? You know Orac doesn't like camping out."

Jenna glided from her post to stand behind Avon and leaned on the couch. "And neither do we, extensively. We'd just rather not have to argue with Orac over the comm-link. It's so much easier when you can thump him in person."

Jenna did the best Blake impression in ten parsecs. Avon gave up. "Of course. Do have a pretty picnic, will you?"

Blake, Cally and Vila watched this verbal pas de deux with delight.

"We intend to," Blake rumbled and reached for Avon. "And I'd never forgive myself for denying it to you. Come along, Avon. We're all going to smell the roses." He pulled Avon to his feet and, turning him in the direction off the teleport, pushed the man ahead off him.

Avon's movements were still sluggish and Blake had to suppress another urge to pick him up.

"You've been planning this all along," Avon accused, vexation beginning to irritate him into full wakefulness.

"Yes," Blake snapped as his own temper was finding its edge.

//Stop being surly, Avon.// Cally warned. //Blake's temper is short enough lately. Do not light his fuse.//

Avon laughed.

Vila brought up a reluctant rear, muttering. "Things have a habit of disappearing out here. Things have a habit of not coming back. What if there are hairy aliens down there?"

"Vila," Blake stopped abruptly and Vila walked into him. "We're hairy aliens and we're not Things."

"Always got an answer, don't you?" Vila sniffled, backing off from Blake and going around him. "Yeah, I know. That's why you lead and I follow. Or so I'm told by various parties." He slung a look of pure vitriol at Avon and pushed on by. "Might as well get it over with." The thief suddenly brightened. "Maybe I'll find some fruits to make some wine with." He picked up his pace.

"You mean whine with, don't you?" Avon quipped.

Blake took that as a good sign. When Avon took the time to banter, he was feeling better. Which made Blake feel better. Although it might not be appreciated by poor Vila.

***

Orac was sometimes blessed with downright prosaic flashes of humor. The super computer set them down in the midst of a glade of Byronesque beauty.

Golden hills spotted with deep green clumps of bushes and gnarled trees rolled away to mountains whose summits gleamed with snow. A small stream flowing to river cut through this land leaving a green wound rich with birds and small game.

A hawk called warning and white deer skittered into the forest.

"Who painted this?" Vila asked rhetorically.

"Gauguin," Blake replied.

They all exchanged wry faces as once again their enigmatic Leader dropped another piece of arcane knowledge on them.

"I would have said Chagall myself," Avon tossed a pebble into the stream. "But the light is wrong."

Blake chuckled. "Of course."

"Actually, it's more DaVinci's light," Vila put in as a fish broke surface where the pebble had landed. "It's that same kind of white light as if lit from behind by the moon, don't you think?"

It was Blake and Avon's turn to exchange wry glances.

"Shall we explore?" Blake offered, looking to each face.

Cally sloshed on across the water. "Yes. Let's."

"You're on," Jenna called and followed.

Vila sat by a tree with solid determination. "I'm staying right here."

Avon eyed the thief severely. "Naturally. Walking about is too much like work."

"No, it's too much like getting lost. I know where here is and so does Orac. And I'm staying by it. Bye." Settling, he shot Avon a little wave and a smug grin.

Avon froze briefly, hands clasped behind his back. "You almost have a point, but to concur would mean remaining here with you, which is not the point of this exercise."

"Which is out of the question."

Avon grinned. "Naturally." He moved away with deliberate strides, stopping to examine a flower or shrub or sound.

Blake simply followed his nose, as it were. Moving down the glen, toward an intriguing stand off massive trees.

"Look at the size of them, Avon! It would take ten of us to encircle one of those trunks," he said with true awe.

"Yes. It's refreshing in a way." Avon moved up to one of the trees to touch it. That Blake hadn't even looked back to see if Avon was there before he spoke, didn't bother him. He'd almost gotten used to Blake's second sense toward him. He found it oddly comforting.

Blake moved on a few steps, then looked back over his shoulder. "Are you coming?"

Avon detected a note of hope but his natural perversity held him back. "No. You need to get away from me as much as I need to be free of you...for a time." He backed off and turned away before Blake's frown could change his mind.

Shaking his head, Blake suppressed a rueful smile and forged on into the woods, pausing at each new plant and flower, trying to recall his spotty knowledge off Natural History. Ponderosa? Or was it Sequoia? So many of the plants appeared to have definite earth origins. Or had these plants come to earth?

A shadow across the rays of sun startled him. Looking up, he saw an enormous dark bird sweeping the sky over him. "Well, well. Not so uninhabited." He sat down against a tree and waited.

Eventually, in spite off his wariness, Blake fell asleep, sighing down into the grass at the base off the ancient tree until he was nearly hidden. His deep olive tunic and earth-tone vest served well here.

Despite his natural uneasiness, Vila, too, dozed, against another tree, near the stream.

Searcher shimmered before him, amorphous, misty. The Fabric of Dreams.

'Surely, this is not The One?' Dark Of The Moon chuckled from his position high over the woods.

'You know better. You are above The One even now. This one follows and his timorousness is a game.' She put her nose to Vila, covering him with her breath. He slapped at her fretfully and she skittered back onto her haunches.

'He's harmless,' Dark Of The Moon intoned. But the old instinct never lied. 'They are armed?'

'Yes,' she sighed. 'As always.'

'They are fugitives, as are we.'

'Yes, yes. They hope to hide here. Weapons are to be expected.'

'This one, their Leader, has an odd way about him. They do not always follow.

'Except the one called Avon. He is near him. He acts otherwise, but he follows.'

There was a long silence then, as Dark Of The Moon circled lower over Blake, startling Avon. 'There were always Two Footed Walkers who were different.'

'But if such as The One are running and hiding, then they are still the exception.'

'The females are playing with the deer.'

'I am not surprised.

***

Astonished at the size of the "bird" above him and at its apparent threat to him, and Blake, Avon drew his weapon.

With a scream that chilled Avon's marrow, the creature dropped and batted the gun out of his hand with a wing tip. An incredibly dexterous feat for such a large, bulky...horse?

He ducked behind a tree that afforded little protection but he obviously wasn't thinking clearly. He'd just seen a winged horse.

"I'm having visions," he muttered, then made a dive for his gun.

Before he had made five feet, Dark Of The Moon landed solidly over the weapon. Raising a tremendous black opal hoof, he crushed the gun beneath it. "It is enough I allow you to remain here, Two Foot. I will allow no weapons."

It was not only a flying horse, it was a talking horse. "I'm mad," Avon murmured, getting to his feet.

"The gun was for protection. This planet is unknown to us." That's it, talk back to the nice horsie. If he had to go mad, Avon would do it in style.

The animal walked directly up to Avon and put its nose into his face, whiffing cautiously. Topaz eyes gleamed.

Avon tried to think of several directions he should be going but he was rooted. He couldn't remember when he'd seen anything so fiercely, so magnificently, sofrighteningly beautiful as Dark Of The Moon.

Even Gan would have had to look up at this beast, Avon thought. Dark Of The Moon was twenty-two hands tall.

"If I impress you so, then you have not yet seen Searcher." Avon put out a hand. "There are more of you?"

"There are more of many things to astonish you."

"I've been astonished by the best."

"Including yourself."

"You and Cally should hit it off." Avon rubbed his palms together. "She's a telepath with a penchant for speaking in riddles."

"I know."

Avon flared at the animal's complacent know-it-all attitude. "Is there anything you don't know?"

"How he leads. What is it about The One that makes such as you follow?"

"Avon?" Blake's voice, quizzical and surprised, came over his shoulder. He spun to face the rebel.

"You're talking to a horse," Blake went on deadpan.

It was quite a sight Blake walked towards: Avon in his silver tunic and high boots, standing before a giant black horse.

Dark Of The Moon spread his wings, cowling them both.

"Oh, it's a flying horse, is it? Well then," Blake pulled at a curl behind his ear. "That's quite different."

Blake put a hand on Avon's shoulder. "Care to introduce us?"

Avon's nose met Blake's nose. Blake lost. "He's a civilized horse. Introduce yourself."

"Very well," Blake pushed Avon aside gently and went up to the horse. "My name is Roj Blake. What's yours?"

"I am Dark Of The Moon." Looking over Blake's shoulder and ignoring the rebel's expression, Dark Of The Moon appraised Avon again. There was a subtle change in the man now that Blake was here. Then he eyed Blake closely. "I think I see how it is you compel your people. One such as Avon does not follow easily."

"Or willingly. Avon, I'm talking to a flying horse."

"Welcome to the club. And don't go for your gun. He's got big teeth. And wait until you meet Searcher."

"There's another?"

"Apparently. Or so the horse says. He says that Searcher is even more impressive."

"Just how many impressive things are there on this planet?"

"What are legend?"

"Oh yes," Avon added, "he also talks in riddles. Rather like you."

Blake wasn't listening. He was shaking off the sheer awe of Dark Of The Moon and was now running his hands over the stallion's satin coat.

"I wonder if I could ride this animal? Imagine sitting astride a flying horse," he murmured.

Dark Of The Moon followed Blake's hands with his head and Blake's voice with an ear.

Avon sat down with knees slightly drawn up and stared. "'Ride'? You can ride a horse?"

"Well, yes, sort of," Blake said with a slightly apologetic look.

"Where would you have gotten an opportunity to ride a horse?" Avon's voice took on its husky slur as he fought to keep it from rising an octave. "That was not part of your Natural History Studies!"

Blake riddled him with a look that clearly said 'well, obviously...' "On Exbar, Avon. It was a primitive planet. It was easier to get fuel for pack animals than for shuttles."

"Yes. Of course. How foolish of me not to have divined that."

Turning from the horse, Blake extended a hand to Avon. "Are you getting up?"

"Only as long as I do not have to join you on the back of that horse. If he'll even let you get on."

Taking his cue, Dark Of The Moon went to his knees and lowered his massive wings.

Blake grinned. "Come on, Avon. Where's your sense of adventure? Of Romance?"

Avon frowned. "In my books, thank you very much."

"Have it your way," Blake shot back cheerfully and swung himself onto the horse's back with what seemed to Avon a most expertly smooth motion.

"You mean, you'll let me?" He couldn't stop a smile.

"Naturally." Blake's hands entwined into the mane.

Then Dark Of The Moon lifted off effortlessly, his great wings sending back a wash of air and loose leaves over Avon.

Blake on horseback would have been an entertaining enough sight in itself. But Blake on flying horseback, soaring and swooping over the cathedral of trees made Avon nearly wax poetic. He stopped himself before he could tarnish his image.

"CHIMERA!"

Searcher's cry came so suddenly to his mind that it stung there just behind the eyes.

Dark Of The Moon dropped suddenly and with a neat and gentle tilt of his body, literally dumped Blake off into the grass then drew back on well-muscled flanks and launched himself into the air.

"Pity," Blake said, dusting himself off and drawing his weapon. "I was having a very good time there."

"So was I," Avon murmured, letting Blake pull him to his feet.

They met eye to eye briefly and Avon's sweet smile never wavered.

"Shall we see what the excitement is about?" Blake began trotting toward the glen.

"Blake!" Avon pulled him back. "A Chimera is a dragon."

"Don't be ridiculous, Avon. There aren't any dra..." He bit off the word. There weren't any flying horses, either. But the one they'd been chatting with had just taken off at the mysterious cry of "Chimera!" which everyone knew was a type of dragon.

Naturally.

Blake began running toward the glen, shouting back over his shoulder, "That's where Vila is!"

Feeling a bit sorry for the Chimera, Avon took out after Blake.

They arrived on the run to see a slightly scorched Vila on the ground, straddled by a Unicorn who was challenging a dragon.

Cally and Jenna stood back by a wounded deer they had tried to protect from the Chimera. In turn, Vila, who sometimes ran to unthinking gallantry, had tried to protect them.

Searcher now tried to protect them all, threatening the dragon with her decidedly deadly horn.

Its great lion's head parried and feinted as she jabbed and slashed, roaring with frustration and rage and sending out gouts of flame over and around her, yet she and Vila remained unscathed.

Without thinking, Blake drew his gun only to find himself and Avon in the line of the Chimera's fires.

Falling to the ground, they covered their heads then realized the flames were going around them as if they were encased in a bubble which they were but it was stretching the limits of Searcher's powers.

When the beast came at her again, she had little left to protect herself and Vila.

And it was Blake--who still hadn't learned to put himself first--who dove for his weapon, rolled and came up firing at the shaggy lion's head. It distracted the creature long enough for it to whip its tail around Blake's waist and send him into a tree.

Blake hit and crumpled like a house of cards and lay still. Avon's face twisted with rare pain as he tensed to leap but the Chimera was between him and Blake.

A shadow swept over them as Dark Of The Moon dropped like an eagle on top of the dragon. He battered at it with his powerful wings and taking the mane in his huge teeth, he shook the beast, filling the air with the ringing sound of an enraged stallion.

In a display of his unbelievable strength, Dark Of The Moon sprang into the air, bringing the struggling beast with him, locked in his teeth. But it tangled its serpent's tail in the stallion's wings and the pair of them went down again in a knot.

Wings thrashed, hooves raked, flame scorched and screams of fury and fear ran together, piercing eardrums.

The beasts rolled and came to their feet, the great snake's tail whipped expectantly as the Chimera backed off slightly to reassess the situation. All it wanted was its lunch. The horse was just too much work but the dragon was very angry. And in its anger, forgot Searcher. She leaped and drove her horn through the back of the Chimera's skull.

Horns grew back, her mate would not.

With one tremendous belch of flame, the Chimera rolled over and died, making the ground tremble with its final flailing. Then it fell away to dust.

Searcher ran to Dark Of The Moon who stood with feet splayed and head hung low as he caught his breath. He folded his wings and then his legs and went to the ground so that tiny Searcher, who was no bigger than the deer, could lick his wounds in the old way. Normally her horn took care of such things, but it would be sometime before a new one grew in, golden and graceful and death-dealing. She was the most classic of Unicorns with her goat-like body and lion's tail. And mated to Dark Of The Moon only in the most mythical of ways.

"Can I come out now?" Vila's plea was muffled because he still hid his head in his arms.

"Get up!" Avon hissed, nudging him with his foot as he passed and was to Blake's still form before Jenna and Cally.

Blake lay partially on his side, arms flung out by the impact, a small trickle of blood running from his nostrils the only outward sign that he was hurt at all.

Touching the throat and putting his ear to the chest, Avon could discern no pulse or breathing and Blake was like a rag doll in his arms.

When Cally reached them, Avon's face was locked into disbelief. It was one thing to "threaten" Blake, exchange verbal parries with the man, quite another to actually be holding his lifeless body.

His eyes told her that he already knew. She tried to touch Blake's mind, reaching along those frequencies which were peculiar to Blake but she couldn't find his Light.

He settled Blake back into the grass and sat back on his heels. "I never really wanted him dead, Cally," Avon whispered. "It's a dream isn't it?" He reached out suddenly, taking her hand, a look like a cornered animal in his eyes. "Flying horses, Unicorns, dragons. It's a dream and we're going to wake up."

"We are all having the same dream then, Avon," she said softly, fearing Avon's odd state of mind. It was not like him to deny reality, such as it presently was.

Jenna clung to the tiny deer and cried into its fur.

Shakily, Vila tried moving, his reluctant legs bringing him over to where Avon and Cally knelt over Blake. "I, I guess this means all bets are off."

This won him the weakest of wry smiles from Avon. "You would have

lost."

"Yeah." Vila sighed.

"It is hard to lose One like that." Dark Of The Moon spoke. "He held you together, gave purpose. I regret his going. What direction will you look for now?"

"Oh, I guess Avon'll look for another banking system," Vila answered humbly without really listening to himself. "Between Orac and Liberator, he may not get caught again."

Searcher was before him as he shuffled over to the ashes of the Chimera. "You must bury him here."

"Oh, yeah, that." Vila sifted through the ashes, for what he didn't know. It seemed an interesting distraction at the moment. "But he's from Earth."

"So are we."

"Yeah. I've seen you in old books." His hands touched Searcher's broken off horn and pulled it from the dust. It caught the late sun and tossed back a rainbow. "I mean, Blake wanted to free Earth. That was his passion. He should be buried there."

"No, his grave should be here, among the Legends."

//I agree,// Cally said, rising and coming over, bringing her comfort to the numb thief who stood turning the horn over and over in his hands, tears burning his cheeks.

"It would be the safest of places. And fitting. No one can come here save the Legends."

"It's getting late." Jenna's voice reached them. The deer had scampered off some time ago and she'd gotten herself back together, barley. "I don't want to bury him to a dying sun, but a rising one. I'll sit by him until dawn." She walked over to Blake, who was still being watched by Avon, sank to the ground on crossed legs and stared at Avon for a time. "Well, what are we going to do?" she asked him.

"We?" He flowed to his feet and looked down at her, then at Blake.

He'd spent the better part of the last half hour irrationally waiting for Blake's eyes to flutter open and a smile to light his face.

It was like that watching the dead, at least dead who weren't mangled, but Blake looked so damn peaceful. So damn asleep. If he'd have been ripped apart by the beast, it would have been easier to accept.

Without a further word, Avon moved off into a small clearing, his silver tunic catching the moonlight and making him glow. He was very nearly beautiful. Avon had that way about him in pain.

Cally stood back wrapped in her own grief. Too close to them and she would have to feel theirs and hers was enough.

Vila sat across from Jenna, his eyes burning, his child-happy face drawn as his expert fingers twirled the horn.

"What do you plan to do with that?" Jenna asked idly, more out of breaking the tight silence than any real interest.

"Plan? I've no plans." He studied the golden spiral. "It's probably worth a lot of money..."

"Of course," Jenna said with deadly cold accusation.

Tossing her a look of pure hurt and indignation, Vila drove the horn into the ground by Blake's head. "It's a fitting marker for a legend, don't you think?" He growled and curled up against the tree.

"Sorry, Vila."

"Yeah."

The planted horn took root, swirling the moonbeams into gentle rainbows across Blake's face.

Avon sat with his head buried in his arms, and trembled.

The voices of Legend were stilled as they all found some sleep.

Spreading his stiff wings, Dark Of The Moon lifted off and spent hours soaring above his own children as the glade filled with flying horses, bickering and gamboling in moonlight and chasing the Centaurs.

He met the other dragons and they flew together leaving streaks of ruby, emerald, opal, sapphire, topaz and garnet.

The first break of the sun found Searcher asleep with her head across Blake while Dark Of The Moon stood over Avon, his great wings forming a tent over the sleeping man.

Vila woke sluggishly, looking around in wonder. He and Jenna rested with Blake amid the sleeping white deer, guarded by a magnificent stag with opal eyes and silver antlers.

"Avon's right. This has to be a dream." Vila muttered, rubbing his eyes. "We're awake!" he shouted. The deer rose as one and thundered off but the stag stopped them at the stream, snorting and stamping his hooves and shaking his antlers menacingly until they caught the new sun. Then they all settled to a morning drink.

"Come on, Blake. Wakey. Wakey." He nudged Blake's still form. "Gotta get up now. The dream's over."

Searcher opened one gold eye. "Stop it," she scolded without raising her head.

Vila leaned across Blake and met Searcher eye for eye. "Er, good morning," then sat back, dejection catching up with despair. "I guess we should be finding a place to dig. I don't like that, putting him in the dirt. Maybe we could just seal him up in a cave."

"And maybe we could set him adrift in a burning ship," Avon said as he came up to them.

"Oh, good morning, Avon. So lovely to wake to your cheerful voice. Can it, will you?"

"Good morning, Vila," Avon returned. "Someone left us something to eat," he tossed down a burlap bag filled with fruits and vegetables, bread and cheese. "Makes one wonder just how many legends there are in a lake. However, a spade would do right now."

Through all this, Jenna sat by Blake, trying to find the conviction to put him into a hole and cover him with dirt. "I'd rather find a Princess to kiss him."

"Are you sure there is no royal blood somewhere in your family?" Avon teased, gently. He had rare moments of awareness of the human condition.

Somehow they all ended up sitting around Blake, wondering at the still-peaceful features on a man who was hours dead without benefit of anything like a preservative.

"For what it is worth, Blake brought us together," Cally said, taking Avon's and Vila's hands. "We will say good-bye that way."

Jenna added her hand and completed the circle by taking one of Blake's hands, and kissing it.

Searcher and Dark Of The Moon stood off some distance. The death of Heroes always marked them deeply. Though Blake was certainly one of the most unlikely heroes they'd ever met. A Leader, followed reluctantly. Without a Plan, yet he'd won the awe of a galaxy.

The big stallion's wings rustled and he covered Searcher with one of them.

Idly, Avon removed the horn and set it across Blake's chest. "A good a marker as any," he murmured, releasing his hands and breaking out of the circle. "Let's not overdo this. What's wrong Cally?"

Her eyes had blanked over briefly into that odd light they took on when she thought she "felt" something. "I'm not sure. I thought I heard a voice."

"We've all been hearing voices. We've also been talking to flying horses and cavorting with Unicorns. Now let's get on with this, shall we?" The bite was back in Avon's voice, but there was another timbre to it. Resignation. Wistfulness. Sorrow? He'd never say. And no one would ever ask.

"There is a place prepared," Dark Of The Moon said. "Over there, in the meadow. Where my children play and Centaurs hunt. It is befitting a Legend."

They all carried Blake to where the horse led them. Into the waist high gold grasses, to a fresh grave cut neatly into the dirt. An arrow marked the resting place.

Avon removed it and eyed the stallion silently.

"It also seemed fitting that another Legend should choose the place."

"Fired an arrow into the air and where it rests Blake shall also rest?"

"You know that Legend then?" Dark Of The Moon never wavered but did constantly sweep the ground and air with his head for scents. He was a stallion after all.

"Yes, I know that legend." Avon examined the hand-hewn shaft, admiring its balance and fine flights.

The hardest thing Avon had ever done in his life was to pull the light blanket that they had laid Blake in around the man's sleeping features. Covering that face was so final.

But just before he did, Avon took Searcher's horn and the arrow and closed Blake's hands around them in a Pharaoh-like pose. "There. That should nicely bewilder some archeologist."

Frankly, the rest of them worried over Avon's reaction as he wavered between cold indifference and odd banter.

The body was lowered and covered. Vila broke down and wept openly. Jenna went stone-cold and Cally had to move away from them all when she could no longer withstand their emotions.

Dark Of The Moon lifted off with his stallion's ringing cries, opaline hooves shattering the sun and the great wings fanning them all. Searcher laid down upon the fresh dirt of the grave.

Avon moved furthest away, wondering where to go now. What to do? Carrying on Blake's foolish Cause was out of the question. Take the money and run, right? He had a fair share of Liberator's treasure chest coming, augmented a full fifth now since Blake wouldn't be taking his. Not that he ever would have. Blake didn't believe in money except as it could further the Cause.

"You don't really believe that?"

Avon jumped more at the selection of words than at Dark Of The Moon's voice.

"No, but I'd like to?" Avon offered.

"You are all very much a part of him. And part of you died and was buried with him. However, going on in his memory is not your way. Go your own way then, but do it well."

"You're right." Avon found his smile. "I sometimes astonish myself."

"Avon?" Blake's voice, quizzical and surprised, came over his shoulder.

Avon froze, staring at the horse.

A familiar and gentle hand rested on his shoulder. "You're talking to a horse." Blake's voice reached him again, closer, close enough to feel the breath.

Dark Of The Moon spread his wings, cowling them both.

"I'm having visions," Avon murmured, swaying on his feet.

"No, I am." The hand spun Avon around to meet Blake, who smiled warmly if a bit bewildered.

Avon picked up Blake's smile and sent it back. "Aren't you going to ask me to introduce you?"

"No. I know who you are. Avon, do you know where this came from?" Blake held out an arrow.

He took the arrow then looked back over his shoulder to the small mound of dirt in the meadow. "Is there nothing more?"

Blake threw his head back and laughed, his face crinkling, nearly hiding his bright eyes. "I wake up with an arrow in my hand and find you talking to a flying horse. What do you mean 'more'?" A note of exasperation flowed through the level baritone.

Avon looked to the horse beseechingly.

Dark Of The Moon only swiveled his fine ears and shook himself. Then with a mighty bugle, sprang up and away from them. "Do not question what has been given. He is Legend, after all."

Following the animal's ascent with his head, Blake's curls caught the sun as he shaded his eyes. He stood solid and comfortingly fit and Avon wanted to hug him but that just wasn't his form. It would give Blake entirely unnecessary ideas. Like perhaps Avon cared. But then, Blake already knew that.

"Then I am dreaming, you are having visions," Blake said, bringing his gaze back to Avon.

When Blake tossed the arrow aside, Avon retrieved it quickly, saying, "If you don't want it, I'll take it back. You won't see another like it."

"Of course, Avon." Slightly confused, Blake followed Avon back to the stream from where they had started.

"Don't ask," Avon said as they approached. "Just teleport and be grateful." To Cally he added, "You see? It was a dream."

//You don't really believe that?//

"No, but I'd like to. Come on Vila, close your mouth and prepare to go back on station."

"Er, yeah." Vila's eyes locked onto Blake intensely.

Blake shrugged.

"We did all see a flying horse?" Vila pressed each one of them with a glint of hope. "And a Unicorn? And a dragon?"

Avon was succinct. "Did we?"

"Dragon, Avon?" Hands planted firmly on his hips, Blake leaned into the computer expert, demand written in his eyes and a warning in his voice. "Unicorns and dragons?"

Avon raised his bracelet to his lips. "Teleport now, Orac. Go back to sleep, Blake."

"Yes, of course. But I want some details when you wake up, Avon."

"Naturally."

At the moment the teleport began to take them, Searcher trotted across the clearing and bent to drink at the stream. Her full horn glinting and turning the sunlight to diamonds.


End file.
